FEATURE | The Next Kabisera

In one of our discussions in Urban Geography, our professor spoke of the looming disappearance of Manila on a map. Like in Jakarta, he means not only literally, but also its economic and cultural relevance caused by environmental reasons. Sinking every second, drowned by its own water.

We all should admit that Manila has always been a liminal zone for everyone—a place where hurt and disappointment exists, but offers a bridge for a breather. It connects our hardships towards our dreams, our quirks towards our consciousness, and our souls towards our community. Leaping like grasshoppers, we step out of worn-out stations through every corner and streets of historic scenery and sensational Pinoy culture. 

The thought of Manila erased made me stop and think, because losing it pretty much means losing everything. And when the shadows finally reclaim the day and Kamaynilaan would soon vanish into thin air, where do we go? 

A pinch of red 

When our nation offers a dream, we travel to Manila, and accept the challenge of becoming an Iskolar ng Bayan through a state-funded university. It bridges our hour-long commute towards a place where dreams are possible. Manila is a station connected to different homes, where everyone could suffer and succeed at the same time. 

While dreams occupy most of the hearts of people who come and go, there is an erring occurrence of violence. It is when most desires turned into frustration, eventually taking over the law by their own bare hands. Social divide, discrimination, and lack of opportunity eat up their guts. Amid large population and agglomeration of service sectors, the ironic hunger for social mobility remains a question for people. 

Because they were never part of the vision to begin with. 

A pinch of gold 

When Pasko offers a sense of renewal, we go to Divisoria to buy our class A clothes. As it means a new pair of everything that will not hurt our Aguinaldo-filled purses. Manila caters to different social classes, but often disintegrates the street vendors, jeepney drivers, and laborers from its vision. Car-centric and lack of supportive urban frameworks often took the lead among streets, despite low-income and underground economies shaping the roads. 

Manila, however, stands on the neutral zone, as it continues to reveal systemic failures that keeps marginalized families out of the picture. Only a small pigment of its cultural relevance is represented by reasons why tourists visit the disappearing city. With hindsight, it essentially reflects modernization caught between development and business, where its grand image is measured by towering buildings rather than qualitative living experience. 

A pinch of black and white 

When we don't have enough money to travel abroad, we go to Binondo to experience a unique Asian food tour. Manila helps us taste a melting pot of different cuisines. Through our ports embossed with patriotic colors, we let these foreigners blend in. Little did we know, it would begin to tighten its grip around our throats, consuming us little by little. The Tagalogs, who literally came from taga-Ilog—people of the river—now put up streams and waters for sale in exchange for alienating beauty powders and machinery. Manila truly changes over time, but not always for the better. We were starved by our own home and begged to be satisfied by it. The blooming yet eroding city now sheds its skin, and all we do is feed on it. 

Manila, contrary to popular belief, is not a tourist destination. It is a home for many farmers whose lives depended on cities as their arable lands were taken away by the landlords. It nestles important institutions that provide communal stability and support. Most importantly, it rumbles multiple lifetimes of different people, surviving against the odds of systemic failure.

The Painting of the Next Manila

Yet, that is what gives Manila a unique National Museum-worthy frame and why we keep coming back. Every color of it is filled by Filipinos’ institutional shades: red for poverty and violence, gold for luxury, and black and white for the absence and hunger for justice. 

The next Manila is far from my thoughts, but when all of its colors rest somewhere at the outskirts of the capital, I hope it is humane, people-centered, and livable. Until then, I would keep me, I and us, in this fading city.

Written by : John Kenneth Dapitan

Layout by: Gracielle Batalla